


History Lover

by Gigi_Sinclair



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:41:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigi_Sinclair/pseuds/Gigi_Sinclair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the TFA-kink prompt: "Hux/Director Krennic - "I want you to be my first." (loss of virginity, young!Hux). Cadet!Hux loses his virginity to Director Krennic. He's had a raging crush on the Director since he was old enough to realize he liked men (Krennic might even have been the catalyst for that realization). When he finally sees an opportunity to make it happen, he doesn't hesitate to go after it with all that keenness that's made him such a rising star in the Academy. Krennic can't help but be amused by his enthusiasm."</p><p>Hux/Kylo Ren is <i>very</i> slight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	History Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Now with some amazing [Krennic art](https://ottenebrare.tumblr.com/post/146704777468/the-incredible-noxogoth-asked-for-the-last) by ottenebrare!

“I want you to be my first.”

Krennic looks up. The boy on the other side of his desk is red-haired and slender, very young and rather sweet-looking. Krennic doesn't care for sweet. “I beg your pardon?” 

The boy swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing in his neck. “I want you to be my first, sir.” His voice is steady, Krennic will give him that, but he can see the boy's hands shaking at his sides. Hux, that's his name. Krennic knows his father, slightly. A good soldier, if somewhat lacking in initiative. Clearly, his son doesn't suffer the same affliction.

“What makes you think that offer holds any allure for me?” 

The boy shifts in place. Hux didn't expect that response, Krennic can tell. Clearly, Hux knows his own beauty, and he's used to relying on it to get what he wants. When he doesn't reply, Krennic prompts, “I'm waiting, cadet.” 

“I, ah, I...I thought you might...” Hux trails off, pathetic.

Krennic takes pity on him. A little. “You thought I was the kind of horny old bastard who'd jump at any chance to get my cock in a virgin ass?” The crudeness is deliberate. Krennic speaks like that only rarely, when he wants to shock. It works. Hux's pretty pale skin turns pink. 

“I'm sorry, sir.” Hux's face is devoid of emotion, but there's the slightest tremor in his voice. An unexpected burst of sympathy blooms within Krennic. He was young once, too, and devastatingly in love with his commanding officer. He never had the nerve to approach her like this, nor did he have the determination Hux must possess. Krennic has no idea what an Academy cadet, even the son of an officer, would have to do to get an appointment with the Director of the Imperial Military. 

“You must understand, I am not above the reach of morality,” Krennic says, his voice softer. 

“I'm eighteen, sir.” 

“Even so, your father is a loyal soldier of mine. I can't think he would appreciate me taking advantage of you in such a way.”

“My father...” Hux's eyebrows flex. “My father is not interested in anything I do, sir.” 

Krennic can sympathize with that. He looks Hux up and down, assessing. Stronger than he looks, clearly, and Krennic does admire his audacity. More personally, it has been a long time—a very long time—since Krennic had any sort of sexual partner, virgin or otherwise. 

“Very well.” Krennic stands and walks around his desk. Hux blinks, but if Krennic expected him to back down, he would have been disappointed. “Although we cannot simply jump into it.” He leans over, pressing a button on the side of his desk. The office doors lock with a click. Again, Hux stands firm, without flinching. Krennic's admiration for the boy increases still further. “We need to...warm up to the activity, so to speak.” 

“Yes, sir.” Hux's eyes meet Krennic's for the first time since he came into the room. “What would you have me do?” 

Rather than tell Hux, Krennic shows him. He places a hand on the boy's shoulder and pushes down. Hux goes willingly, kneeling on the plush red carpet at Krennic's feet. 

Krennic doesn't wear his cape in his office. It would be ridiculously impractical, but Krennic finds himself regretting it, suddenly. Hux has clearly dreamed of this. It would be nice to give him the full experience. 

Still, they make do. Hux doesn't make a move, so Krennic unfastens his own belt, placing it on the desk behind him. “If you wish to leave now, Cadet Hux,” he says, his hands on his fly, “you are more than able to do so. I will say nothing of this to anyone.”

Before Krennic is even finished the sentence, Hux is shaking his head. He reaches forward tentatively. Krennic allows him to fumble with his fly, then to pull down his trousers. Inside his regulation black underwear, Krennic's cock stirs with interest. “Whenever you're ready, cadet.” Krennic leans back against the desk. Hux is ready. He dispenses with the underwear without hesitation and runs a smooth, dry hand up Krennic's cock. Almost at once, the hand is followed by a warm mouth. 

Hux is clearly not a virgin in every way. Unless he was born with some rare natural talent, he's obviously done this before. Krennic imagines the boy kneeling in front of one of his hard-bodied, young Academy peers, perhaps sucking his sweaty cock in a dark corner of some changing room after a sporting match. Then, he pictures Hux, maybe desperate for an improved grade, in a classroom after a lesson, coyly offering this service to a sinewy old Academy instructor. The former scenario seems more likely. A man of Hux's singular focus probably never has trouble with his grades. 

Hux's slim fingers brush Krennic's testicles, and Krennic has to hold back a gasp. He glances down to see Hux, looking at him with wide, worshipful eyes. “Get up,” Krennic says, roughly. “We have to stop that, if you want me to have you.” There was a time when Krennic could have done both, come in the boy's luscious mouth and fucked him immediately after, but sadly, those days are gone. 

Hux scrambles up, his eyes still on Krennic, awaiting orders. Krennic scans the room. There's a leather sofa against one wall, but both he and Hux are too tall for it to be ideal. Krennic imagines what he would like, if he was a young boy desperate for his first time with his idol, and says, “Lean over the desk.” 

Hux obeys at once. “You're a good soldier,” Krennic tells him, as he reaches into a drawer. Hux's skin, already pink, seems to flush more deeply at the words. Krennic pulls out a tube of slippery lotion and orders, “Strip. Everything below the waist, including your boots.” 

“Yes, sir.” Hux almost falls over himself to comply. When he's done, he leans over again, and Krennic surveys his body. Krennic's erection, which had flagged a little in the meantime, returns to full force as he takes in Hux's smooth, white backside and skinny legs, pressed against the front of Krennic's desk. 

“We'll go slowly,” Krennic says. They have to. He wants to make this good for the boy, and for himself. Krennic is a hard man, ruthless in many ways, but he's never found enjoyment in inflicting pain during sex. 

Krennic squirts a handful of lotion from the tube, an obscene _squelch_ echoing in the office. Hux is facing the window. Krennic runs a careful finger along the notches of the boy's spine and imagines someone peering in at them. It's impossible, they're eighty-seven stories up and no aircraft are allowed inside the perimeter, but it makes an attractive fantasy. He keeps it in mind as he dips into the crack of Hux's backside and then, slowly, into Hux himself. 

Hux doesn't make a sound, although he is almost painfully tight around Krennic's finger. “Do you do this to yourself?” Krennic asks, sliding in and out. “Do you practice?”

“I...I have. Sometimes.” Hux sounds humiliated to make such a confession. 

“Don't worry about it. We all do.” It's the only way to keep sane, sometimes. The soldier's life does not lend itself to regular, satisfying partnered sex, even at Krennic's level. Krennic pushes his finger in again, and a small moan escapes Hux. “You can be louder than that,” Krennic encourages him. “The walls are soundproof. Security reasons.” Hux grunts. It might be a little soon, but Krennic can't wait. He adds another finger, and Hux cries out. “It's all right,” Krennic goes on. “You're doing well, soldier.” Krennic's cock certainly thinks so. He's dripping excitedly, like a teenager. Krennic decides to speed things along. 

“You'll like this,” he promises, and he drops to his knees behind Hux. 

Krennic was never an aficionado of this particular act. He certainly doesn't think of himself as skilled at it, but it's not like one can go wrong and, in any case, Hux has nothing against which to compare it. At the first touch of Krennic's tongue, he's screaming. Krennic holds him still, one hand on each cheek, and licks into him, urged on by Hux's unrestrained noise. He feels it when Hux comes, his lips against Hux's skin and his tongue deep inside him. 

While Hux is still whimpering, Krennic makes his move. He stands and pushes his eager cock into Hux's red, wet hole, sliding in as far as he can. It's only about halfway but still, the sensation is unbelievable. He grabs Hux by the hips and begins to move. He's vaguely aware of a need to go gently, and he tries to slow himself down, but it's so easy to get carried away. Hux is very hot, and very tight, and it's been a very long time. Krennic's orgasm builds rapidly. When Hux braces himself against the desk and begins to push back, matching every stroke of Krennic's with one of his own, Krennic is lost. He lets out a shout and empties himself into Hux's wonderful, waiting body. “Good boy,” he mutters, reaching down to slap Hux's pink backside. 

“Yes, sir,” Hux cries, and comes for a second time. 

***

On his bed aboard the _Finalizer_ , Hux shudders through the last of his orgasm. He lies sated, his chest heaving, as the ship's air circulation system blows a cool breeze across his heated body. He allows himself to linger only for a moment, then he sits up. He reaches out, flicking a switch on his holoprojector. The image of Director Orson Krennic in full dress uniform, slightly fuzzy like all modern copies of old images, flickers and winks out. 

It's a go-to masturbatory fantasy of his, and has been since Hux was a young cadet and first saw Krennic's portrait in a history classroom. He can't say what, exactly, appeals to him about the man. Krennic was a failure, of course, and too volatile to ever be a good, reliable leader, but there's something about him—his looks, his power, his attitude—that has always fuelled Hux's most elaborate daydreams.

On the bedside table, Hux's communicator beeps. He reaches over and looks at the message. It's from Ren. _Snoke wants to see us now._ Of course he does. Hux sighs, then mentally chastises himself for his insolence toward the Supreme Leader. _Give me two minutes_ , Hux writes back. He stands, gathering pieces of his uniform from where he dropped them in his haste to jerk off to a holo of a man who died before he was born. Hux had looked forward to it all day. 

As Hux pulls on his boots, the comm beeps again. _For kriff's sake_ , he thinks and looks. Another message from Ren, of course. For a Jedi—former Jedi—Ren has a deplorable lack of patience.

 _You're too good for him._ Hux blinks. Does he mean Snoke? Ren has never uttered such a treasonous thought before. If anything, he seems to spend every spare moment searching for ways to humiliate and diminish Hux in front of him. But Ren's sanity hangs by a thin thread, at best, and Hux doesn't make a practice of wondering why he says or does anything.

 _I'll meet you there_ , he writes back, and heads for the door.


End file.
